


Iwaoi Sickfic Collection

by casper_the_friendly



Series: Haikyuu!! Sickfic Compilation [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Car Accidents, Child Abuse, Child Iwaizumi Hajime, Child Oikawa Tooru, Emetophilia, Emetophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, Stomach Ache, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 13:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10742964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casper_the_friendly/pseuds/casper_the_friendly
Summary: The title pretty much says it all... I've written a bunch of sickfics (most of which involve vomit) on my tumblr, and I thought I'd put them up on here for anyone who's interested.  It may take me a while to upload everything I have so far, so if you'd like, feel free to check out my tumblr account@casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction





	1. Part 1/2

**Author's Note:**

> if you don't want to read about vomit, do not read!

“You are not going to school, Trashykawa.”

“I-Iwa-cha-a-a-acho!”

Hajime forced his way into Tooru’s house, pushing his friend gently backwards as he did so. It was easier than he thought it would be. Not a good sign.

“Bakakawa,” Hajime muttered under his breath.

“I’m fine, let me go!” Tooru tried to say, but with his stuffy nose it came out as “Ib fine, led be go.” Hajime rolled his eyes and took the sick boy by the wrist.

“Just go lay down, idiot. I’ll make you some soup.” Tooru’s eyes widened.

“But you have school!” He protested. Hajime shook his head with a scowl, but his voice came out soft and caring. And maybe a little worried.

“How can I just leave you here alone while you’re sick? Your parents aren’t here, are they?”

“…No. But, Iwa-chan, I don’t feel that bad, honest!”

“Right. That’s what I was afraid of, Stupidkawa. Seriously, just rest. The world won’t end if you take a day off from overworking yourself.”

Tooru looked like he wanted to protest, but was instead wracked by a coughing fit that completely took the wind out of his sails. Finally, he leaned back on the couch and let his eyes droop. He looked completely wiped out, and Hajime had to wonder if he’d slept at all the night before. Being the insomniac that he was, it was shocking that Tooru didn’t get sick more often.

“Iwa-chan, so kind,” the sick boy murmured, before falling asleep. Hajime thought it was amazing that his friend could look so angelic even with a runny nose, swollen eyes, and a sweat-coated, pale face. Cringing at his own thoughts, he left to make some soup and tea. Just as he finished, he heard movement from the family room.

“Iwa-chan?” A quiet, raspy voice asked. Hajime almost laughed. It sounded like Tooru was losing his voice. If feeling sick didn’t bother him, not being able to talk loudly certainly would. “Did you make-“ Tooru was cut off by a cough. He tried again, but all he could get out was “-oup?”

Feeling a little bit bad for his amusement, Hajime brought out the soup to Oikawa, who looked even worse. He held his head in his hands as if it hurt terribly, which it likely did, and was sweating like crazy.

“Yeah,” Hajime responded. “Here’s your soup. Take it easy and don’t eat too fast. After you finish I’ll get you some medicine for your headache.”

“M’kay,” Tooru whispered, as loud as he could. The soup seemed to help somewhat, if the relieved look on Tooru’s face was anything to go by, but he was just barely able to choke down the pill for his headache with the tea and whined pitifully as he swallowed it. And by the time he was done eating he was shivering violently. Hajime placed a hand on his forehead.

“No doubt about it you definitely have a fever. Let’s check with the thermometer, just to see. how high…” Hajime trailed off as he noticed that his friend had fallen asleep again. He shrugged, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to wait until Tooru woke up. He snagged one of Tooru’s old handheld video games and sat down in front of the couch to play that while the other boy slept. After a while, he remembered that he had left a mess in the kitchen, and went to clean it up and maybe grab a snack for himself. He didn’t want to leave Tooru alone, but the boy had been sleeping soundly for a while now, so he decided it would most likely be fine. Still, he jotted down a quick note just in case Tooru woke up and needed him. Then he headed back to the kitchen.

After cleaning up, he looked for something that he could eat. He’d had such a single-minded focus when he was making soup for his friend that he hadn’t realized the otherwise significant lack of food in the house. The refrigerator was entirely empty of everything except for milk and butter, and the pantry held only two more cans of soup, some canned peas, and various spices. Hajime hated soup. He had just resigned himself to eating canned peas for lunch when he heard a harsh and wet-sounding cough from the living room.

He rushed back to the couch, just in time to see Tooru cough, and then burp up a thin stream of puke on himself. Although, as he looked again, it didn’t really seem substantial enough to truly call it puke. More like he coughed up the tea he’d drunk to get the pill down earlier. Still, Tooru looked close to tears, so Hajime moved to help him sit up and to rub his back.

“Sorry, Oikawa. Do you feel any better now?” He asked sympathetically. Tooru made a pained noise that was definitely not affirmative, and shuddered miserably. Hajime stealthily pulled the trash can that was next to the couch closer to him, just in case. It was a good thing, too, because Tooru suddenly doubled over. Hajime helped him lean over the side of the couch and winced as his friend’s thin frame shook with a heave that expelled what looked to be all of the soup he’d consumed earlier. Tooru got sick one more time to fully empty his stomach, and then dry-heaved for a good minute before his stomach settled enough that he was able to relax again. Tears flowed down his face.

“H-Ha-Hajime!” He half-cried, half-rasped. Pain stabbed at Hajime’s heart to see his friend in such a state.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just breathe. You’ll make yourself sick again if you cry like that.”

“It’s- it’s on my- my shirt!” Tooru wailed.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Let’s take your shirt off, okay? I’ll get you a new one.” Tooru nodded, with a whimper.

“Don’t- don’t get it on my face!” He cautioned. Hajime nodded. He rolled the shirt over itself and was able to remove it cleanly.

“How’s that?” He asked. Oikawa was already shivering.

“G-G-Good.” Hajime scowled. He didn’t want to leave Tooru like this, even to get him a shirt. He looked down at himself. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and a loose t-shirt himself. Without another thought, he took both off and pulled them over Oikawa’s head. They fit surprisingly well.

“Is that better?” Hajime asked. He hardly needed a response, though. Tooru was looking at him with huge, admiring, and thankful eyes. He had curled up into a ball and was snuggling into the sweatshirt.

“Iwa-chan, it’s still warm from your body heat,” he said. Hajime, embarrassed, had to resist the urge to hit him, but was glad all the same.

“Just go back to sleep.”

“C’mob, Iwa-chan, you know sleeping is never that easy for me.”

Hajime sighed, because he did know that. He’d hoped it would be easier to sleep since Tooru’s body was so exhausted from being sick, but that didn’t appear to be the case, at least at the moment.

“Okay. Look, I know it hurts your throat, and it might upset your stomach later, but you need to stay hydrated, so I’m going to get you a glass of water-“ Tooru moaned and looked about to comment on Hajime’s meanness, but Hajime held up a hand to stop him. “Listen! I’ll do that, and you can pick out a movie to watch. And then we’ll watch that and you’ll drink water and it will be some good and some bad, so overall it will be okay.”

Oikawa had gone still.

“Can I really pick whatever movie I want?”

Hajime nodded.

“Even an alien one?”

With only a slightly pained expression on his face, Hajime nodded again.

“Even…”

“You know what, I’ll just grab ET for you. That’s what you want, right?” Tooru was looking at him with stars in his eyes.

“Iwa-chan!”

Hajime grunted and got up to get the water and the movie. Tooru grabbed his sleeve.

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru sounded ecstatic, but tears were welling up in his eyes again, and the combination made Hajime feel a sensation almost akin to mental vertigo.

“What is it? Are you alright?” Tooru nodded.

“It’s just…”

Hajime waited.

“It’s just…”

He waited some more.

“Iwa-chan…”

He couldn’t wait any more.

“Spit it out already, Oikawa!” His outburst, or perhaps the use of Oikawa’s name instead of an insulting nickname, startled the sick boy enough that he finally did.

“It’s just that Iwa-chan is the nicest and the best friend ever and… Thankyou,” he added very quickly. Hajime smiled.

“Don’t worry about it. Just relax and let me get you some water. And then actually drink the water so that you don’t pass out or anything, please.”

Tooru grinned, and although he was still sick and tears were still running down his face and he generally looked like crap, Hajime had to leave the room quickly to hide his blush. Tooru was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, even sick and looking like death.

When he came back, Tooru had shifted his position so that he was no longer lying but sitting on the couch.

“Lay down, dumbass. This is supposed to make you sleep, remember?”

“I’ll sleep like this!” Tooru protested. He pouted when Hajime made a face. “I wanted to make space for you. Oh! But I don’t want to get you sick. Sorry, that was a dumb idea.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Hajime mumbled, and went to sit in the empty space despite his initial protests.

By the end of the movie, both boys had fallen asleep.

About two hours later, Hajime awoke to what he thought was his friend having a coughing fit. When he opened his eyes and saw Tooru clutching the trashcan tightly, his heart contracted. Tooru was relieving his stomach of all of the water he’d drunk, and very violently at that.

Hajime leaned towards him and rubbed circles on his back and a hand through his hair. When Tooru was done he took out the trash and replaced it with a new bag, and by the time he was done, Tooru was again asleep. Perhaps the exhaustion of being sick was finally kicking in, because Hajime had never seen Tooru fall asleep that easily. Unfortunately it was so easy that he hadn’t even had time to clean himself up, so Hajime had to do that for him, though he didn’t really mind, if it meant Tooru would get better faster.

The pair woke up three more times for Tooru to be sick, and they slept through most of the next day. It wasn’t until around three in the afternoon that they both got up to take showers.

Tooru was feeling much better.

Hajime was exhausted.

“Iwa-chan, go home and sleep.”

“Are you… Are you sure that you’re.” Tooru waited patiently for Iwaizumi to finish his sentence as he was interrupted by a yawn. It was all Tooru could to resist his mouth’s urge to twitch into a smile. “Okay?”

“You could barely even finish that sentence. I think I’m probably more okay than you are, at this point. It was the best night of sleep I’ve gotten in years, probably.”

Hajime nodded, and headed for the door, where he stopped and turned around.

“Call me if you need anything else. Seriously. If you don’t…” He trailed off again. Oikawa couldn’t resist giggling this time.

“If I don’t, you’ll kill me. I know.” He gently pushed Hajime out. “Thank you, Iwa-chan. Now go rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Hajime nodded, and went home.


	2. Part 2/2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't want to read about vomit, do not read!

The next morning, Tooru could hardly believe the spectacle that came to greet him. It wasn’t unusual for Hajime to come meet at his house; Tooru always took too long to do his hair, as Hajime had pointed out far too often. It wasn’t unusual for Hajime to be grumpy when he did so; he wasn’t much of a morning person. It wasn’t even unusual for him to be sweaty, since he would often go on a run beforehand, knowing he’d shower after morning practice.

It was absolutely out of the ordinary for Hajime to be looking like a sick, lost, and exhausted child.

“Iwa-chan…” Tooru, for once, didn’t really know what to say.

“What is it,” Hajime panted. “Hurry up and get ready, Dumbkawa.”

“Iwa-chan, that didn’t even sound right.”

Hajime snarled, as if to ask “what of it,” but didn’t retaliate. He was swaying slightly on his feet, so Oikawa put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Ah, let’s go sit down.”

“As if we have time to sit down! We’re,” Hajime struggled to swallow, but his throat was painfully dry. “We’re gonna be late.”

“We’re not going,” Oikawa said firmly. Hajime wouldn’t have any of that, and stood up immediately.

“What do you mean? You’re better, and we’ve missed two days in a row, and the team-“

“I’m sure the team is fine without us. Iwa-chan, I think I got you sick,” Tooru regrettably informed him. “So let’s just-“

Hajime left Tooru’s house without another word.

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru hastily followed after him. He caught up quickly, but there wasn’t much he could do to deter him.

“I’m not sick. Leave me alone, dumbass,” Hajime said, and then sneezed. He ignored the pointed look Tooru gave him, and was relieved when they reached the school and the team was already practicing. It would make it easier to ignore the worried glances Tooru kept casting his way.

“Woah, you guys are back!” Kindaichi saw them first.

“Of course we are,” Hajime said tersely. “We were only gone because Dumbkawa here had to go and get sick.” Hajime ended it there, since he had to turn away to hide a harsh cough of his own. Kindaichi seemed to accept that, and nodded before going back to practice. However, Hajime didn’t notice the two third years who had pinned suspicious eyes on him.

“He said Dumbkawa,” Hanamaki whispered.

Matsuwaka nodded. “Yeah, Iwaizumi’s usually more clever than that.”

“Right? And he hasn’t hit Oikawa once.”

“And that was definitely a cough, just now.”

“And look at the way Oikawa is looking at him. It’s more than the normal love-struck eyes. He’s worried.”

“Probably because he’s the one who got him sick. Can you imagine how clingy a sick Oikawa would be?” Matsuwaka shuddered at the thought. “He’d definitely spread a disease.”

“Definitely,” Hanamaki confirmed. It didn’t take long for their captain to feel their gazes, and as soon as he spotted them staring, Tooru approached them.

“What do I do?” He asked frantically.

“About Iwaizumi being sick, you mean?” Hanamaki guessed.

“Yeah,” Tooru nodded. Then he paused. “Wait, how did you-?”

“Lucky guess,” he said.

“Okay, but seriously, what-“

“Just leave him be. He’ll relent eventually and then you can take him home and take care of him,” Matsuwaka offered helpfully.

“Look, Oikawa. You know as well as anyone how insanely stubborn that guy is. You aren’t going to convince him to go home. But you can wait for him to feel bad enough that he’ll want to.” Hanamaki added.

Tooru made a distressed sound, but before he could voice his concerns, the coach yelled at them to start running laps. Matsuwaka gave him one last smile. “It’ll be alright,” he said, but Tooru still wasn’t sure.

Somehow, Hajime held his own at practice. He may have been a little slower than normal, but he was still faster than the rest of the team. He may have been a little less powerful, but everyone has their bad days. He may have felt slightly nauseas at times, but that did tend to happen to members of the volleyball team on occasion, thanks to their rigorous practice. Sure, it had never happened to Hajime before, but he didn’t even get sick, so it was alright.

“Iwa-chan, you don’t look so good,” Tooru commented as they both got out of the shower at around the same time. “And you took much longer than normal to take a shower. Are you alright?”

Hajime scowled. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. If he noticed Tooru’s disappointed frown, he didn’t show it. They went to class in silence.

Tooru made sure to take good notes, though he didn’t usually, since Hajime was completely zoned out for once during class. His normally razor-sharp focus seemed to have disappeared for the day, and it took everything Tooru had to restrain himself from telling the teacher that Hajime was sick and forcing him to go to the nurse’s office. After Japanese and World Geography, they had different classes. Hajime stalked away from Tooru without a word. Just as he was about to panic, Matsuwaka stuck his head around the corner Hajime was headed for and jostled him with a rough one-armed hug. He gave Tooru a thumbs up behind Hajime’s back, and Tooru couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. After math, he received a text from Matsuwaka saying that Hanamaki would take care of Hajime during their English class. Tooru thanked both of them.

By the time lunch rolled around, Hajime looked significantly worse. Between sheen of sweat coating his body, the pallor of his face, and the shivering, Tooru was kind of surprised he hadn’t passed out yet.

“I-Iwa-chan…” Tooru’s own voice and hands were shaking. He’d never seen Hajime look this weak before, and it was freaking him out. Someone put a hand on his shoulder and Tooru turned.

“Maki?”

“Dude, he’s definitely sick,” Hanamaki said with some frustration seeping into his concerned tone. Tooru made a small squeaking noise. “And he’s so stupidly stubborn. I blame you for this.”

“Me?” Tooru said in a high-pitched tone.

“Yeah. He’s around you so much, he probably had to become more stubborn, since you’re so pushy. So it’s your fault.”

“It’s not my fault Iwa-chan is so dumb!” Tooru practically screeched.

“Oi,” Hajime broke in, sounding almost like his normal self. Tooru flinched, waiting to be hit with some flying object. Instead, Hajime said quietly, “Could you guys quiet down?”

His teammates looked at him with horrified expressions.

“What?” Hajime barked irritably. “I just have a little headache is all.”

“Look, Iwaizumi. I know you don’t believe Oikawa when he says this, which makes sense, since he’s a liar, but I only ever tell you the truth, so listen up.”

“Wow, Maki, rude!” Oikawa interjected half-heartedly. Hanamaki ignored him, and placed his hands on Hajime’s shoulders.

“You’re sick. Go home.”

Hajime’s scowl deepened, and he threw Hanamaki’s hands off of his shoulders. “Oh, great, he’s convinced you, too, huh?”

“Dude, it’s entirely obvious even without talking to Oikawa. You’re gross and sweaty, have a runny nose, you’ve been shivering on and off for the last hour, you haven’t hit Oikawa in the last ten minutes, not to mention you’re weak.” Hajime looked ready to fight, but Hanamaki held up both hands in a gesture of peace. “Hey, you know I don’t say that lightly. You’re the strongest guy I know. But don’t you think I could feel you shaking when you shoved my hands off of you?”

“I’m not weak.”

Hanamaki made a frustrated sound. “That wasn’t my poi-“

“Have an arm wrestling competition,” Matsuwaka broke in. He gave Tooru’s shoulder a squeeze, noticing immediately how on edge he was. “If Iwaizumi can’t win, then he’s sick. If he can, then he’s capable of taking care of himself.”

“This is ridiculous,” Hajime said.

“Let’s do it,” Hanamaki said. “You aren’t afraid you’ll lose, are you?”

Hajime sighed. “Fine.”

Now Tooru broke in. “Iwa-chan, are you sure you’re okay to-“

“I told you, Dumbkawa, I’m fine!” Tooru flinched, but didn’t say anything more. Matsuwaka gave Hanamaki an amused smile, because their teammates were idiots.

“Let’s get food first, though, yeah?” Matsuwaka reminded them, and they got their food and sat down.

“Iwa-chan, you didn’t get anything.”

“Shut up. I’m not hungry,” Hajime muttered.

“Iwa-chan…” Tooru couldn’t help it. He was just so worried.

“Oikawa, shut up already! Just leave me alone, alright?”

“Okay, okay,” Hanamaki broke in as tears sprung to Tooru’s eyes. “Let’s all calm down.”

“Maki’s right,” Matsuwaka agreed. “Let’s just do the arm wrestling competition and get over it. Iwaizumi has beaten all of us in the past, so he will have to beat all of us today to prove that he’s fine. Start with Maki.”

Both boys nodded.

“Okay,” Matsuwaka said. “3… 2… 1… Go!”

Immediately, Hajime won. Hanamaki scowled and mumbled, “Even when he’s sick…”

“Alright, my turn,” Matsuwaka sat down across from Hajime, who looked about to faint, and thought he had a pretty good chance of winning. But it was no good. Hajime still won, and came out looking satisfied but even more sick than before.

“Iwaizumi, man, you’re crazy strong, even when you feel like crap,” Matsuwaka admitted.

“I… do not… feel… like crap… you jerk,” Hajime protested weakly. Matsuwaka shrugged.

“Whatever you say… Just remember, you can drop out any time.”

“No way.”

“Okay. Oikawa, you’re up.”

Tooru gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to hurt Hajime by going all out, but he would have to in order to get him to go home and rest, so he steeled himself and sat down. Hajime’s hand was sweaty and hot and disgusting, and it was shaking. In fact, all of Hajime was shaking with exertion. Tooru felt like crying. Instead he squeezed his friend’s hand.

“3… 2… 1… Go!”

It was a good match (which was a bad sign, since normally Tooru was the easiest to beat), but Hajime managed to win, just barely.

“I can’t believe it,” Matsuwaka said honestly.

“Iwaizumi is a monster,” said Hanamaki.

“Oikawa, how did you lose when he’s so weak?” They both teased.

But Tooru didn’t say anything in response. He was entirely focused on Hajime, who had gone very still, to the point that he hardly looked like he was breathing. There was a spark of panic in his eyes. Tooru stood up with a jolt and scrambled to reach Hajime, but it was too late. He got there just in time to rub Hajime’s back while he doubled over, turning slightly sideways, and was sick right there on the bench of the lunch table.

There was a moment of pure silence throughout the lunch room. Then everyone seemed to start talking again at once, but Hajime’s friends remained quiet.

“Aaaaallllright-y, then,” Hanamaki broke the silence. “Time to go home, Iwaizumi.”

He got a moan in response.

“Here,” Matsuwaka said gently, bringing over a handful of napkins. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He started wiping the vomit off of Hajime’s clothes.

“Iwa-chan, are you okay?” Tooru asked.

Hajime shook his head and continued to look queasy, and Tooru snapped into action.

“Guys. Let’s just get him to a bathroom.” It was the most captain-like the other two had ever seen him, so they did as he said without question. Just in time, too, because as soon as they got there, Hajime ran to one of the stalls, where he crumpled to the ground and was very, very sick into the toilet.

“It’s okay, Iwa-chan, you’ll feel better soon,” Tooru muttered softly. Hanamaki and Matsuwaka waited outside of the bathroom to stop people from going in, and although they couldn’t hear what Tooru was saying over the retching, they gave each other equally disgusted looks that indicated their agreement that it was too adorable for their pure ears to hear.

Eventually Tooru yelled at them to come in and help him with their sick friend. They looked at each other warily before entering, bracing themselves for the smell. Matsuwaka gagged, and Hanamaki patted him on the back, weakly. They eventually found their way to Tooru and Hajime who was sitting on the ground.

Their captain had his back braced against the side of the stall, and Hajime looked to nearly asleep, leaning back on Tooru. He also had remnants of vomit on his shirt and face. Matsuwaka gagged again, and Tooru glared at him.

“Don’t you get sick, too, Mattsun. You should leave if it upsets your stomach.”

Matsuwaka, acknowledging the point, made to leave. “I’ll be around if you guys need me, alright? I can hold it together if I have to. I think,” he added, just in case. Hanamaki nodded, but Tooru was too busy wiping puke away from Hajime’s face to acknowledge his exit.

“Oikawa, we should take him to the nurse. She’ll send him home,” Hanamaki suggested. Tooru looked appalled.

“Maki! How could you suggest such a thing! Just look at him!” Hanamaki gave Tooru a bland look and shrugged.

“Yeah, he looks like he’s sick. Which he is. That’s my point.” Tooru glared. Hajime raised a shaking hand.

“I second Maki. I just want to go home,” he inputted. “Also, I’m right here, guys, you don’t have to act like I’m an invalid just cause I’m sick.”

“Well, at least he admits he’s sick now,” Hanamaki muttered.

“But we can’t bring him out in the hallway when he looks like this!”

“Again, I am still here, and you totally can,” Hajime squirmed. “Actually I can probably just go there-“

Tooru pulled him back to his chest. “Iwa-chan, wait! Don’t do this! You’ll regret it later! Have you seen yourself?”

“Oikawa. I want to go home. Now.” Tooru refused to let him go.

“Iwa-chan, I’m going to take of your shirt.”

“No.”

“I have to. It’s for your own good.”

“Please-“

“Actually,” Hanamaki said. “It isn’t a bad idea. I’ll get Mattsun to grab you that sweatshirt Oikawa wore to school this morning from his locker, and you can wear that.”

“Wait, my sweatshirt? It’ll get all gross and barf-y!”

“Mattsun!” Hanamaki yelled. “Go get Oikawa’s sweatshirt from his locker! His combination is 12-24-18!”

“No, Maki!” But it was too late.

“On it!” Matsuwaka called back.

By the time he returned with the sweatshirt, Hajime’s shirt was off and he was genuinely trying to escape Tooru’s grip in order to just go home.

“Iwa-chan, you can’t! It’s against the rules!”

“I. Don’t. Care. Let me leave.” Hajime said firmly. Hanamaki, having retrieved the sweatshirt, shoved it over Hajime’s head. A stunned silence followed. Hajime was surprised by how soft the sweatshirt was, and by how comforting Tooru’s smell was. Tooru, for his part, was shocked by how adorable Hajime looked in his sweatshirt, and regretted ever protesting against that idea. And Hanamaki just stood there with his arms crossed wondering how the two leaders of the volleyball team weren’t already making out 24/7.

“Okay, I’m leaving,” Hajime said firmly. Tooru nodded slowly, returning to reality.

“But we’re going to the nurse first, so nobody gets in trouble for missing class,” he reasoned logically. Hajime made an impatient noise, but agreed.

The nurse told Hajime, unsurprisingly, that he had a fever, he shouldn’t have come to school, and that he needs to go home. Tooru told her that Hajime didn’t have a ride home, but that he could take him back, if she would so kindly let him miss the rest of the day. Even though she commented on how he’d missed the last two days of school and no doubt noted that Hajime had done the same, Tooru’s puppy eyes worked like some sort of spell, and she let them go, then shooed the other two back to class with notes excusing them from what they’d missed.

Tooru spent the entire walk home trying to process the fact that Hajime was sick, something he’d never thought would happen, and beating himself up because it was his own fault. Hajime spent the entire walk home sneezing, coughing, and trying not to puke. Which was a valiant effort, but was ultimately in vein.

“Iwa-chan!” Tooru exclaimed when he doubled over suddenly. Hajime coughed twice and shuddered as he walked over to the side of the road, where he threw up a small amount of stomach bile. Another wave of nausea overcame him immediately, and this time he expelled a large amount of puke.

“Aw, Iwa-chan,” Tooru cooed. He couldn’t help the tears that sprang to his eyes. Hajime was hit even harder by this bug than he had been.

“Oi,” Hajime rasped, voice scratchy from a sore throat and from vomiting. “Shittykawa.”

Tooru’s ears perked up at the familiar nickname. He hadn’t heard it since Hajime got sick.

“Don’t blame yourself, stupid.”

“But, Iwa-cha-“

“Hey. Enough of that,” Hajime stood up and wiped his mouth. “You can’t expect me to regret taking care of you. You can’t expect me to have left you alone the other day while you were sick. You can’t expect me to actually blame you when I was the one who decided to stay with you. So stop that, you dork.”

Tooru gave him a watery smile. “Okay, Iwa-chan. But you have to let me take care of you in return!”

Hajime groaned, but Tooru’s puppy dog eyes truly were magic. He sighed. “Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm sorry if you didn't, i know it isn't everyone's cup of tea.  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below if you have a bit of time to type them up!
> 
> if you enjoy my writing, feel free to check out:  
> my fanfiction sickfic tumblr account @casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction  
> i also have an oc sickfic tumblr account @casper-and-their-sick-ocs  
> my main is @smolsickficwriter  
> and i have a collab hq!! sickfic account @vollyball-illnesses


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you don't want to read about vomit, do not read!

“Make sure to eat well.”

Iwaizumi had told him so many times when they’d went their separate ways for university. That’s probably why, when Oikawa’s stomach started doing flips one morning, it popped into his head. “If you don’t take care of yourself,” Iwaizumi had said, “you won’t be able to perform your best.”

Iwaizumi had also told him to sleep well and not stress too much, but both of those seemed like impossible tasks, so he settled for eating lunch and hoping that was going to help.

Two hours later, he was calling his best friend. “Iwa-chan.” He snapped as soon as the phone was picked up. “Eating didn’t help.” There was a drawn out silence on the other line, during which Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was either thinking of an honest response or deep breathing to control his anger (it was probably some of both). When he finally spoke, Oikawa could hear a tension, maybe restrained frustration, behind the single word.

“What.”

“Eating! You said it would help if I wasn’t doing well and so I tried it and my stomach hurts and now I don’t know what to do because it didn’t work and you said it would-“

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s rough, but somehow gentle voice cut through Oikawa’s panic in the way only Iwaizumi had ever been able to do. Oikawa checked his breathing and tried to listen for Iwaizumi’s on the other end to match it. Instead he heard muffled shuffling and the sound of keys.

“Hey, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi grumbled. “First of all, calm down. You’re an adult, you can figure this out.” Oikawa’s throat clenched; this wasn’t helping. This wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He didn’t want to be an adult, anyway. His thoughts crashed together and tumbled over each other like waves until the sound of a car starting startled them into a pause.

“Iwa-chan, are you busy right now?” He hated that Iwaizumi’s life was moving forward without him, and maybe away from him.

“Don’t interrupt me, Shittykawa, I’m not finished,” Iwaizumi snapped. Oikawa resisted the urge to whimper. Iwaizumi sighed.

“Second, I’m sure I never told you that eating was a panacea.”

“But you said-“

“I said that you needed to take care of yourself, which included eating regular meals, to prevent any issues from arising.”

This time Oikawa really did whimper, both because his stomach hurt and because he knew Iwaizumi was right. Oikawa had always been better at memorizing academic facts for tests, but Iwaizumi never forgot words spoken in conversations.

“Third,” Iwaizumi continued, “you need to learn to explain things more clearly. Even I don’t understand you when you don’t give me all of the information.”

“Iwa-chan, I just-“

“Fourth, and lastly,” Iwaizumi said loudly, talking right over Oikawa as if he’d never spoken. In the pause Oikawa heard the car turn off and panicked.

“Iwa-chan, don’t hang up! I know you’re busy, but-“

“Lastly, Crappykawa, let me in to your apartment.”

“But- wait, what?” There were three loud, distinctive knocks on the door.

“Oi, Trashykawa, let me in!” This time Iwaizumi’s voice sounded simultaneously from the phone, and from just outside Oikawa’s door. Oikawa’s eyes widened and he let Iwaizumi in.

“Iwa-chan!” He moved to hug his friend, but was pushed away. Iwaizumi snarled and walked straight through the apartment.

“Don’t you dare get me sick.” Oikawa followed forlornly and stopped in the doorway when Iwaizumi entered the bathroom.

“I’m not-“

“You are. Sheesh,” Iwaizumi shook his head, starting the water running in the bathtub. He stuck a hand under to test its warmth and turned it up a notch before clogging the drain. Without turning to Oikawa, he let out a huff of breath. “Literally anyone could tell you’re sick but you, Dumbkawa. You’re all sweaty and pale and you said your stomach hurts and you’re shaking, or shivering, either way not a good sign. Basically you look like shit.”

Oikawa crossed his arms. “Iwa-chan, I never-“

“Get in,” Iwaizumi gestured to the bath. “It’ll help.”

Oikawa perked up. “Really?”

“It’s worth a shot, at least.”

Soon Oikawa was sitting in the bath.

“Well?” Iwaizumi asked. “Does it feel any better?”

Oikawa shrugged, but was quiet.

“Oikawa?”

The sick boy wrapped his arms around his stomach and shuddered, swaying slightly.

“Woah, there,” Iwaizumi placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you-“

Another shudder ran through Oikawa’s body and this time he brought his hands to his mouth, but it was in vain. Vomit spurted from between his fingers and splashed into the water. He felt his shoulders hunch, heard Iwaizumi make a disgusted noise, and then his whole body lurched forward and he retched, twice, before he was being sick again, the vile acidic substance pouring relentlessly from his mouth and nose. His stomach lurches and he heaves again even as he’s in the act of puking, and another rush of vomit in his throat forces it all to jet out of him with even more force. It hits the water with so much force that some of it splashes out of the tub, on the walls, on Oikawa, even Iwaizumi. By the time he’s coughing and sputtering in an attempt to catch his breath, Oikawa has tears flowing freely from his eyes. Nausea continues to roll through him, but he leans back, hoping to avoid falling face-first into the soiled bathwater out of pure exhaustion. He hiccups and a thin stream of bile drips down his chin. His eyes drift lazily to Iwaizumi and he blinks slowly, taking in his friend’s pale and completely still image.

“Iwa - hic - chan?” he says thickly. He watches Iwaizumi’s throat work desperately. Then suddenly Iwaizumi leans over the bathtub. Oikawa’s eyes widen as Iwaizumi retches loudly and is sick, his half-digested lunch reappearing in a liquified form on top of Oikawa’s vomit. The ordeal makes Oikawa heave, and since he’s too weak to lean forward, this time the rush of hot liquid ends up as much on his chest as in the water. He hurls on himself twice more before he’s empty and left dry-heaving along with Iwaizumi.

“Ahhh, fuck,” Iwaizumi mutters, coughing harshly as he catches his breath. “Fuck.”

Oikawa was sobbing. “Iwa-chan,” he sniffled and repressed a gag as the action made the nausea worse. “I’m sorry.”

“No! Shit, Oikawa, you don’t- you don’t really think I would be angry about you being this sick, do you?”

“I made you sick!”

“No, no, you- you know how when you’re anxious or feeling stressed you feel more carsick than you normally would? That’s what happened. I feel bad for having been so distant lately, and for not being around to take care of you, and- and man, I should be the one apologizing, I just basically threw up on you.”

Oikawa froze, and instead of responding, burped up a final gush of vomit. The revolting taste, the way it got stuck in his nose, the pain it caused his throat as the acid seared, combined with Iwaizumi’s kindness; that was the last straw. Oikawa dissolved into nausea-inducing sobs, crying like a baby. Iwaizumi sighed.

“Well,” he mumbled. “I guess I can think of one way to make it up to you. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm sorry if you didn't, i know it isn't everyone's cup of tea.  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below if you have a bit of time to type them up!
> 
> if you enjoy my writing, feel free to check out my tumblr accounts, where you can send me requests:  
> my fanfiction sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction](http://casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction.tumblr.com)  
> i also have an oc sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-ocs](http://casper-and-their-sick-ocs.tumblr.com)  
> my main is [@smolsickficwriter](http://smolsickficwriter.tumblr.com)  
> and i have a collab hq!! sickfic account [@vollyball-illnesses](http://vollyball-illnesses.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't want to read about vomit, do not read!

They’ve only been playing cards in the common area for about 15 minutes, but Iwaizumi is bored. It doesn’t take him long to figure out why.

“Hey, guys, where’s Oikawa?”

“Still in the bath, I think?” Hanamaki says, raising his eyebrows. Iwaizumi’s natural frown deepens into one of concern and annoyance.

“It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?” He takes a quick mental inventory of the people around him; the whole team is there, minus their captain.

“He’s probably fine,” Matsuwaka shrugs and turns back to his cards. Iwaizumi stands up and the rest of his teammates look at him again. He clears his throat.

“I’m going to go check on him,” he explains, and is gone before anyone can protest. Something doesn’t feel right, and as much as he loves making fun of Oikawa, right now the idea of leaving his best friend alone any longer makes him inexplicably but undeniably uneasy.

When he finds Oikawa, he’s glad he went with his gut. His mouth barely above the water and completely alone in the bath, Seijou’s captain looks limp and lifeless. His face is all red, and if it weren’t for the slight flow of the water pushing him gently side to side, he would be completely still. Iwaizumi scowls, pushing the pinch of anxiety in his gut aside. When it comes to taking care of himself, Oikawa has never been anything but irresponsible.

“Oi, Shittykawa! We’re leaving this bath, come on!” Iwaizumi waits about five seconds before the fear that Oikawa really may have passed out gets the better of him and he takes a step closer. He’s ready to pull his friend out of the water by force when he finally speaks up.

“Ah?” Oikawa’s voice is thick and slow. “Iwa-chan? ’s that you?”

“Of course it’s me,” he says loudly, startling Oikawa because of his proximity and getting a mild satisfaction out of the small surprised jolt of his shoulders. “Now get out,” Iwaizumi demands, looking away. It’s not so much out of embarrassment or anything of that sort (having been friends for such a long time, both boys have seen each other naked on plenty of occasions) but because he is well acquainted with Oikawa’s habit of making some smug comment along the lines of “Aw, you just can’t look away from my beautiful body, can you, Iwa-chan?”

When he hears an unnatural splash from behind him, he’s torn between worry and the suspicion that Oikawa’s playing some sort of trick on him just to get him to look. And yet, he cannot stop himself from turning around.

He finds a disoriented looking Oikawa gripping the side of the bath for dear life.

“Oikawa?”

“Hah,” he breathes out a stuttering laugh. “I’m- I’m coming Iwa-chan, hang on.” He tries to stand again, and Iwaizumi watches him sway drastically for a moment before grabbing his arm.

“Oi, Shittykawa, what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m fine, really, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa struggles unconvincingly in Iwaizumi’s grip for a brief time before giving up. Iwaizumi’s grip on his arm tightens, demanding an honest answer. “Just… a little dizzy, is all.”

“Bakakawa. Of course you’re dizzy, you’ve been in here far too long.” He lifts his unsteady friend out of the bath, never once letting his grip loosen. “Let’s get you back to our room and you can lie down.”

Oikawa pouts. “But I wanted to play with the team-“

When Iwaizumi shoots him a death glare and Oikawa closes his mouth, paling a bit.

“Well, I guess it would be okay to spend the rest of the night with Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbles. “You- you’ll stay with me, right?”

Iwaizumi sighs heavily at the excessive uncertainty in his best friend’s eyes and shakes his head. “Of course, Trashykawa.” I’ve never left alone you before, have I?

When they get back to their room, Iwaizumi helps Oikawa get comfortable and settled into bed, bringing him the remote control for the TV and his stuffed alien.

“There,” he mutters, crossing his arms and surveying the room before his eyes flick back to his friend in anticipation. The room is a chaotic mess; it was typical of Iwaizumi to throw his stuff everywhere, but it was also routine for Oikawa to relentlessly nag him about it as soon as he entered the room. He had yet to say a word about it. Iwaizumi hadn’t worried too much about this at first, as he’d assumed that Oikawa was probably just out of it, but at this point, considering Oikawa’s lack of complaints and general commentary, not to mention the fact that the TV remote remains unused in Oikawa’s loose grip, Iwaizumi doesn’t think it’s unreasonable to be concerned. He waves a hand in front of his friend’s face.

“Oi!” Oikawa’s eyes snap into focus at Iwaizumi’s exclamation. Iwaizumi’s voice softens. “You okay?”

“Hm?” Oikawa hums a questioning note.

“You’re just… quiet,” Iwaizumi finishes, diplomatically avoiding bringing up the subject of his mess so as not to upset Oikawa.

“Mm. Still kind of dizzy.”

Iwaizumi frowns. It’s been a while since Oikawa left the hot bath; he should be feeling better by now. Unless… Iwaizumi reaches a hand to Oikawa’s forehead and almost immediately realizes what’s going on.

“You’re sick.”

“Hmph. No way, Iwa-chan! I’m a healthy-“

“Your burning up, Dumbkawa.”

“But Iwa-“

“No buts,” Iwaizumi glares. “You need to try and sleep.”

Oikawa blinks and looks at Iwaizumi reproachfully.

“Don’t you give me that look. I know you have trouble sleeping, but you at least have to try. Your body will probably be more susceptible to sleep now that it’s sick and knows it needs the energy to heal itself.”

Oikawa makes a face, but relaxes into the pillow behind him. Now that Iwaizumi knows he has a fever, he can see the signs more clearly: the pasty quality to his skin, the exceptionally deep bags under his eyes, the sweat gleaming on his forehead. Iwaizumi feels a pang of pity for the sick boy; it always sucks to get sick on vacation.

“Hey. Do you feel any symptoms other than the dizziness?”

“I’m fine, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa lets out a dramatic exasperated sigh. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, but had to make sure.

“Really? There’s nothing else?”

“Honestly, Iwa-chan! You are my mom after all!”

“Shut up!” Iwaizumi growls, but Oikawa looks so run down that it’s hard for him to believe the jeer was anything other than a distraction tactic. He softens. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

There’s a moment when Oikawa’s face opens up in a knee-jerk mirror response to Iwaizumi’s sincerity. Iwaizumi can’t judge how much pain is there in his eyes since the moment passes so quickly, but he feels somewhat relieved when Oikawa is left with a small, but genuine, smile.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Iwa-chan. But, if you want, maybe you could bring me some water? My mouth is pretty dry.”

Iwaizumi smiles, both glad that Oikawa’s being honest, and that he seems to be in relatively high spirits. His worry eased somewhat, he allows himself to stop and talk for a bit when Hanamaki calls out to him as he passes the common area.

“Is Oikawa okay?”

“Yeah, he’s-“

“See?” Matsuwaka breaks in. “What’d I tell you?”

Iwaizumi scowls as Hanamaki and Matsuwaka exchange knowing glances.

“Right, but-“

“It’s cute how you were so worried about him, though,” Hanamaki says suggestively.

“Seriously, it’s not-“

“Oh, Iwaizumi!” Kindaichi calls out to him, not realizing that he’s interrupting. “Are you and Oikawa going to play cards with us? We’ll wait to deal the next hand!”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, and the team erupts in a barrage of complaints.

“Why not?”

“It’s only 10 pm!”

“Well, actually it’s 10:45… but still!”

“You guys are lame!”

For about five seconds, it’s entertaining, and somewhat flattering. Unfortunately, the team doesn’t stop there, but instead gains momentum to the point where Iwaizumi wouldn’t be surprised if Oikawa could hear them all the way on the other end of the hall. The last think Iwaizumi needs is a curious Oikawa wandering out of the room to figure out the cause of all the commotion. Enough is enough.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!”

Thankfully, when necessary Iwaizumi can be even louder than the rest of his team combined, even when they’re as riled up as they are tonight. He puts his hands on his hips when they fall into a stunned silence.

“Thank you. Also, thank you for so kindly and enthusiastically inviting us to play cards with you, but unfortunately, we must decline, since Oikawa,” Iwaizumi looks purposefully at Matsuwaka and Hanamaki, “has a fever and must rest up. I’m just grabbing him some water and then I’m going to head back and keep an eye on him. And if any of you goons text Oikawa to ask him if he wants to play cards, I’ll kick your ass,” he adds as a precaution when he notices a new glint in Hanamaki’s eyes and the phone in his hand. He’s glad he did so when Hanamaki’s smile fades. Crisis averted.

He turns to leave and grumbles a “goodnight” over his shoulder as he goes, acknowledging the responding “goodnights” of the rest of the team with a wave of the hand.

Despite all the trouble and chaos, Iwaizumi is in a much better mood by the time he returns to the room. As a result, he’s nearly drops the glass of water on the ground in surprise when he opens the door to find that his best friend has dissolved into a sobbing mess. He rushes to his side immediately.

He smells the vomit a moment before he sees it on the comforter. There’s not much, but it’s enough to make Oikawa freak out. The sick boy’s hands are lifted but hanging limp at the wrist as if he doesn’t know what to do with them but wants them as far away as possible, which is probably the case seeing as they have puke dripping from them. Oikawa hates messes, and this is certainly a mess. Still trying to process the shock, Iwaizumi takes a moment to compose himself, then speaks as quietly as he can.

“Oikawa…” Even as gentle as Iwaizumi’s voice is, Oikawa startles, having been so wrapped up in his distress that he didn’t notice when his friend returned. He hiccups and his eyes squeeze closed again as he wails.

“Iwa- Iwa-cha-an,” he sobs, his breathing fast and uneven.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi murmurs, knowing that he needs to calm Oikawa down but not knowing exactly how. “Hey, Oikawa. Look it me. You’re okay.”

Oikawa sniffles, but the action makes him retch. Iwaizumi grabs the trashcan that’s conveniently next to the bed (which is also scary, since it means that Oikawa didn’t even have the strength to get it himself before he was sick earlier). Oikawa accepts the receptacle gratefully, but his arms shake as they wrap around it. Iwaizumi places a hand on his sweaty back to help support him, and gently strokes Oikawa’s hair away form his face with his other hand.

“You’re okay,” he repeats.

Oikawa shudders, and then his whole body jolts with a heave. The distinctively hollow splash of liquid on the empty plastic trashcan tells Iwaizumi it was productive.

“That’s it, Oikawa. You’ll feel better soon.”

Oikawa lets out a whine, and then he’s lurching even further forward, burying his head in the trashcan as his body is wracked by heave after relentless heave. He gasps desperately for air but ends up coughing so harshly that he gets sick again.

“Take small breaths, Oikawa, and don’t panic,” Iwaizumi murmurs, wishing he could do more, but not knowing what else he can do. “You’ll be fine.”

By the time he’s able to pull away from the trashcan, Oikawa is shaking like a leaf. He’s not crying anymore, but his eyes are so wide that Iwaizumi wonders if the fear of throwing up again is the reason he’s holding back his tears.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s voice comes out in a raspy whisper and he’s caught off guard by a small, but thankfully dry, cough before he can continue. “I feel so bad.”

Iwaizumi clicks his tongue and runs his fingers through Oikawa’s hair. “I know.”

“I made a mess.”

“I know.”

“I have to-“

“I’ll clean it.”

“You can’t even clean your own clothes up off the floor!” Oikawa’s breathing speeds up again.

“Hey. I can if you tell me to. Come on now, you know this.”

“I know I just…” Oikawa trails off and Iwaizumi doesn’t catch the last of his muttered words.

“What?”

“It’s just gross!” Oikawa shudders and looks down at the vomit on his shirt.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, I promise. Now let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll clean the floor while I’m at it, too, how’s that sound?”

Oikawa shrugs, and Iwaizumi takes that as an agreement.

Oikawa is silent and complacent throughout the whole ordeal, not even bothering to verbally greet Hanamaki and Matsuwaka when they stop by briefly to help after Iwaizumi texts them an SOS. In fact, Oikawa doesn’t say a word until after the other boys leave and Iwaizumi moves to start picking up his clothes off the floor.

“Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi freezes. “What’s up?”

“I’m—“ Oikawa yawns. “‘m tired.”

Iwaizumi relaxes. “Well, that’s good. You ought to rest.”

“Not when you’re cleaning.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Iwaizumi says, looking around helplessly. “Sorry, I should have done this sooner, but now it’s going to take a while.”

“Come to bed.”

“What?”

“Well, you’re not sleeping in that—“ Oikawa yawns again, longer this time. “That bed without a comforter.”

“Don’t you want me to pick up—“

“Just leave the clothes, Iwa-chan!”

That’s a first. “You sure?”

Oikawa nods. “You have to be my pillow in exchange, though!”

“Your what?”

Oikawa flushes pink, and Iwaizumi wonders if maybe that had been the fever getting the better of his tongue. “It just… listening to your heartbeat helps me sleep,” Oikawa whispers in a voice so low that Iwaizumi hardly catches it. He’s glad he does, though. It makes him smile and immediately give up on cleaning. He turns off the light and gets in the bed.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa lays his head on Iwaizumi’s chest and relaxes.

“Sure thing,” Iwaizumi mutters. Then Oikawa tenses suddenly and Iwaizumi wonders brieflyif he should have kept the trashcan within arm’s length, despite Oikawa’s reassurances that he was no longer nauseous.

“You can’t leave,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi relaxes, relieved. As if he needs to justify the validity of his demand, Oikawa adds, “It’s part of the deal.”

“Honestly, Oikawa, you-“

“Hajime,” Oikawa pleads, voice desperate and shaky. “Please.”

Iwaizumi looks at him in surprise, and even in the near-complete darkness he recognizes the return of that vulnerability he’d glanced earlier. And yeah, there’s some fear there, too. Iwaizumi huffs out a puff of air.

“Of course.” Oikawa relaxes immediately, his eyelids drifting shut.

Despite the chaos of the night, Iwaizumi can’t help but smile, thinking back on how bored he was when Oikawa wasn’t around. As someone who despises being bored, he certainly chose the right best friend. Life is never anything less than excessively eventful when Oikawa’s around, that’s for sure. And yet, he still manages to look peaceful and innocent when asleep. Iwaizumi laughs lightly, exhaustion nipping at his own heels now that he’s in bed.

“Don’t worry,” Iwaizumi murmurs, just before drifting off, a hand sifting lightly through Oikawa’s hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm sorry if you didn't, i know it isn't everyone's cup of tea.  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below if you have a bit of time to type them up!
> 
> if you like my writing, feel free to make requests on my tumblr accounts!  
> my fanfiction sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction](http://casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction.tumblr.com)  
> i also have an oc sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-ocs](http://casper-and-their-sick-ocs.tumblr.com)  
> my main is [@smolsickficwriter](http://smolsickficwriter.tumblr.com)  
> and i have a collab hq!! sickfic account [@vollyball-illnesses](http://vollyball-illnesses.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't want to read about vomit, do not read!

Okay, I don’t know if you wanted them to be children, but since their mom’s planned something for them I’m assuming they are? Hopefully that’s alright.

“I don’t want it!” Tooru whined. His stomach felt weird, and he didn’t know why. All he knew was that food did not look good right now, and watching Iwaizumi snarf everything up wasn’t helping at all.

“Tooru, you have to eat,” his mother told him. “You’ll have to stay here until you do.”

“No!” Tooru shrieked and pouted. He didn’t want either of those things, and, being eight, he didn’t know what else to do.

“C’mon, Tooru, I wanna play,” Hajime whined. Oikawa stilled. He wanted to play with Hajime, too. So, choosing what felt like the lesser of two evils, he ate everything that was on his plate before running off to play.

For a while everything went smoothly. So smoothly, in fact, that before long, Tooru’s mother decided to go out and run some errands while the two of them were settled down watching a movie about space. Thus, she wasn’t there when Hajime got bored and picked up one of Tooru’s alien stuffed animals from his side.

“Ha-chan, wait! Put that down!”

“Why?” Hajime asked, surprised. Tooru had never minded sharing before. He didn’t know that, with his stomach hurting as bad as it was, Tooru simply wanted to keep all of his comforts closer than normal.

“It’s mine. Give it back!”

Hajime scowled but put it down. He sat, cross-legged and cross-armed. “I’m bored, Tooru.”

“Well, I’m watching a movie, so you have to be quiet now.”

“Fine,” Hajime said, standing up. “I’m gonna go catch some bugs.”

After a few minutes alone, Tooru realized that without Hajime to distract him, his stomach hurt more. So he went outside to find him. Sure enough, there was Hajime, with a beetle in his hand. When he spotted Tooru, he ran over, any anger forgotten in his excitement.

“Look, Tooru! Look what I found!” He shoved the bug into Tooru’s hand.

Tooru stared at it for a moment. Then he shrieked. He wasn’t scared of bugs, but he didn’t like that Hajime liked this one more than Tooru himself. So he threw it on the ground and stepped on it, wailing even more when, instead of dying, it scurried away.

Hajime grabbed Tooru’s shoulders and shook him back and forth roughly, tears streaming down his face, too. “Why did you do that? It took me ages to catch that, you meanie! I can’t believe you-“

He broke off when Oikawa kicked him roughly in the shin and pulled away. Partially on instinct, and partially out of rage, Hajime immediately punched Oikawa in the gut before dropping back into a defensive stance. However, rather than lashing out again as Hajime had expected, Tooru turned and ran back into the house. Hajime followed.

“Tooru, your mom’s not there so you can’t tattle!”

Rather than receiving a response, Hajime heard harsh gagging sounds. “Tooru?”

Following the noises to the bathroom, Hajime opened the door to see his friend bent over the toilet, his entire body wracked with heaves. Vomit poured relentlessly from his lips, splashing heavily into the toilet, and tears were streaming down Oikawa’s cheeks.

“Tooru!” Hajime didn’t know what to do. He decided to imitate what his own mother did whenever Hajime or his siblings were sick and ended up rubbing Tooru’s back.

“Go ‘way,” Tooru sobbed, hiccuping and wiping tears from his eyes. Then he burped and vomited onto his hands, his shirt, the floor, before he was able to situate himself over the toilet again. He coughed weakly and then expelled more sick.

Hajime stood back, uncertain. “I’m sorry, Tooru! I didn’t mean to…”

But, after having gotten the mess on himself and the floor, Tooru was inconsolable. The two of them soon dissolved into tears, and when Tooru’s mother returned, she found them both crying endlessly, with Tooru slumped against the wall occasionally burping up more puke onto himself, but too exhausted to get back over the toilet, while Hajime was curled into a ball on the floor.

Tooru’s mom sighed. It looked like their play date was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm sorry if you didn't, i know it isn't everyone's cup of tea.  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below if you have a bit of time to type them up!
> 
> if you like my writing, feel free to make requests on my tumblr accounts!  
> my fanfiction sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction](http://casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction.tumblr.com)  
> i also have an oc sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-ocs](http://casper-and-their-sick-ocs.tumblr.com)  
> my main is [@smolsickficwriter](http://smolsickficwriter.tumblr.com)  
> and i have a collab hq!! sickfic account [@vollyball-illnesses](http://vollyball-illnesses.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't want to read about vomit, do not read!

When Iwaizumi picked up a phone call from Oikawa, he never really knew what to expect. As a result, he was rarely surprised by anything that came out of it, since his expectations were, truly, nonexistent. And yet, he was nothing less than shocked to hear this when he answered his phone:

“I’m sorry, but your son is the worst person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. Gah! I don’t know what I expected, I already knew as much. I suppose I thought it’d be worth it, but - ugh, I’m sorry, but I just can’t. He refuses to stay still, whines incessantly, and insisted he wasn’t sick right up until the point where he puked on me, probably on purpose. You can keep your money, and you’d better come pick him up in the next fifteen minutes or else he’ll be on the streets, I just refuse to allow him to stay here any longer!”

That sounded like Oikawa, alright, although Iwaizumi doubted his friend would actually throw up on someone purposefully. Iwaizumi was silent, so absorbed in a continued effort to process the rapidly spoken words that he didn’t even realized that the woman on the other end of the line was waiting for his response.

“Hello? Are you there, Rika?”

Iwaizumi flinched and the phone flew out of his hands. He scrambled around frantically trying to catch it, and was just barely able to do so. When he brought it back to his ear the woman was speaking again.

“…I’ll just hang up and throw him out, then!”

“Hang on!” Iwaizumi grunted. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on at all, but let’s get one thing straight: I am not Oikawa’s mom.”

There was a pause, then muffled shouting. Iwaizumi could tell that the receiver was being covered, but he could hear every word spoken anyway.

“Oi, you brat! You told me this was Rika!” There was a loud crash and a pained noise that Iwaizumi was very familiar with.

“Hey!” He shouted, starting to protest, but it soon became clear that the woman still couldn’t hear him.

“Can’t believe you would set me up like a fool like this after all I’ve done for you!”

“But Iwa-chan…” Iwaizumi heard Oikawa whine before his voice was drowned out by the woman returning to finish the conversation on the phone.

“Well, I’m sorry about that. He informed me otherwise. I suppose I’ll just have to throw him out now then-“

“No! No, I’ll come get him, just let him stay inside for ten more minutes, please,” Iwaizumi begged, already pulling on his shoes and grabbing his car keys.

“Fine,” she said. “Good-“

“Wait!” Iwaizumi interrupted, panting as he slid into the car and ignited the engine. “Your address- where are you?”

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The line had gone dead. Iwaizumi only hoped she’d heard his last plea or that she would return the phone to its owner- and that its owner was aware enough to send Iwaizumi a text. The dark haired boy waited, foot tapping, as the car slowly warmed up. Finally, his phone pinged. He snatched it up.

From: Hanamaki

a second ago

eyyyy do u want to come get dinner with matsukawa and me? tonight at 5

Iwaizumi was about to type out a no when another text came in. He jumped at the noise, but his heart sank again as he saw who it was from.

From: Matsukawa

a second ago

oikawa can come to if u want

To: Hanamaki, Matsukawa

can’t tonight. sry

Another ping, another disappointment. Iwaizumi shook his head; if he couldn’t get an address, he couldn’t help. And the clock was ticking.

From: Matsukawa

a second ago

everything okay?

From: Hanamaki

a second ago

yeah, u never use ‘brviations

He started to type a response, but was again cut off by a ding. This time, he stilled.

From: Unknown

734 West Fork Avenue

He hurriedly finished his text to his friends, and sent it.

To: Hanamaki, Matsukawa

yeah, i just- ah, sry, gtg

Then he drove off, going 10 mph over the speed limit with no remorse. He reached the run down little house in no less than seven minutes. He was relieved when there was no sign of Oikawa outside.

Iwaizumi knocked on the door once, but it was no surprise that he didn’t get a response. Instead of knocking again he barged in.

“Oikawa?” There was no response and Iwaizumi’s heart sped up. Images of his best friend wandering around, injured and sick in the snow-

A rustling noise came from upstairs. The stairs themselves were falling apart, but Iwaizumi only hesitated for a moment before heading up.

“Oikawa!” He shouted again.

“Iwa-chan!” A small voice replied, one that was familiar, but at the same time very different than what Iwaizumi was used to. Instead of a whine, more of an empty squeak. He spun towards it immediately nonetheless.

“Shittyka… wa…“ He trailed off as he took in the sight of his friend. He was lying down on his side on the floor, simultaneously shivering and sweating. That wasn’t what had Iwaizumi stunned. No. The fact that there was puke, some dried, some otherwise, all over him… To say the least, the fact that even Iwaizumi had to admit that there was a pretty valid reason for the tears flowing down his friend’s face was far more concerning.

“Shit, Tooru…” Iwaizumi swallowed a lump in his throat as Oikawa struggled to sit up, only succeeding in doing so by pressing his back against the nearby couch. Vomit dripped from his chin, his nose, his arms as he held them out to Iwaizumi like a child asking his parent to pick him up.

It broke Iwaizumi’s heart to see his best friend in such a vulnerable spot. What else was he to do but respond with a hug?

Oikawa practically fell into him as Iwaizumi wrapped his arms around his team’s captain, the sick boy’s full weight pressing against Iwaizumi’s chest. It was undeniably disgusting to have Oikawa’s vomit all over himself, but Iwaizumi allowed it without complaint, and sat down so that he could better support his friend. He rubbed Oikawa’s back soothingly.

“Hey,” he murmured as Oikawa sobbed, hiccuping and burping into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “What’s going on? Why are you here? What do you… what should I do?”

“I- hic!- I feel really - urrp! - bad, Iwa- bruup!- chan!” Oikawa choked out between queasy belches. Iwaizumi shifted, concerned that Oikawa might get sick again but on him this time. Then he remembered that he was already covered in vomit and decided it wasn’t anything to get seriously concerned about. There was something much more pressing to deal with first.

“Oikawa, please, help me out here. Who is that awful lady? Why are you at her house? Did she hurt you?”

Oikawa buried his face in Iwaizumi’s chest as he let out another loud, wet burp. “She’s my aunt. I’m here becaAURRRP!” Oikawa lurched forward with an aborted retch and Iwaizumi flinched.

“You gonna be sick?”

Oikawa shook his head and forged on. “‘m here ‘cause my parents wanted her to take care of my when I got the flu… they’re- hicuuUURP,” his hurried explanation was cut off again.

“Because they’re traveling for work,” Iwaizumi finished for him softly. He knew this story. Oikawa’s parents were almost always traveling for work. He gave his sick friend’s shoulder a squeeze.

Oikawa nodded, indicating that Iwaizumi’s guess was right. “She got mad. Told ‘er ta call you ‘cause my - hicuurrp! - parent’s wouldn’t’ve come.” By the time he finished up, Oikawa was merely whispering. Iwaizumi’s heart ached for his friend, who was trembling in his arms. Iwaizumi ran his hands through Oikawa’s sweat-slicked hair and tried not to linger too much on the fact that Oikawa had avoided his last question. Still…

“I think we should leave, Oikawa.” The sick boy whined and Iwaizumi sighed. “I know. I know you feel terrible but-“

“I know.” Oikawa attempted to push away from Iwaizumi’s chest but ended up swaying unsteadily. Iwaizumi helped him stand. “She doesn’t - URRP! - want us - me - here.”

Iwaizumi sighed again, for a different reason, as they started down the stairs. “Yeah, well, that’s her loss.”

“Awww!” Oikawa’s eyes brightened immediately. “Iwa-cha- ULP!” His praises and glee were both cut off as he brought a hand to his mouth. Iwaizumi’s arm tightened around Oikawa’s waist as the taller boy’s knees started to give out. It was meant to provide support, but ended up causing Oikawa’s stomach contents to rebel with greater force. Part of him had assumed that Oikawa would have emptied his stomach earlier, just judging by the quantity of vomit that still soaked his clothes, but this time Iwaizumi was proven to be very, very wrong.

Oikawa didn’t even have time to double over all the way before a seemingly impossible amount of sick was gushing from his mouth. It was expelled with such a forceful heave that the barf covered the entire length of the staircase and then some. For a moment, Iwaizumi stared at his friend in shock. Then Oikawa was throwing up again, albeit less forcefully, and Iwaizumi found himself holding the boy up. Then there was a clatter from upstairs and, even as Oikawa continued to be sick, Iwaizumi froze to listen.

“…at gross stupi… ucking brat gone… ‘ve thrown em out… cking hate…” He caught enough snippets of angry mumbling to get the gist of things.

“Time to go,” he said, more to himself than Oikawa, whom he had to practically carry, still retching, out the door. Iwaizumi felt momentarily bad about leaving such and unpleasant surprise in Oikawa’s aunt’s house. Then he remembered the nasty surprise he’d gotten over the phone and any lingering guilt disappeared instantly.

In the car, Iwaizumi offered Oikawa a plastic grocery bag, which he gratefully accepted. Unfortunately, when it came time for him to actually use it, he was so dizzy that he ended up spewing on the floor, just barely splattering the outside of the bag with barf. Iwaizumi frowned, but truthfully, since they were still both covered in vomit, his car would’ve needed some internal cleaning regardless.

“Sorry, Iwa-“ Oikawa coughed and a thin stream of bile ran down his chin.

“Don’t worry about it, Shittykawa. Seriously. I don’t mind.”

Still, it was a relief to get home. Less of a relief to find Oikawa already asleep in the passenger seat of the car and not at all ready to wake up.

As luck would have it, that was when Iwaizumi got his last surprise of the day. A sudden knock on the windows- two knocks, actually, one on each side. Peering in through the glass, where Iwaizumi expected to see burglars, were his friends. Hanamaki opened his door for him and took a mock bow.

“Hanamaki Takahiro, at your service, and my sidekick Matsukawa Issei. We are here to save the day!” He and Matsukawa grinned and gestured to two bags of take out. Dinner. Iwaizumi smiled wryly.

“Thank you guys. But…”

The other two exchanged glances. Matsukawa raised an eyebrow and Hanamaki leaned in close as if to inspect Iwaizumi.

“But…?” Hanamaki prompted.

“But it’s going to take more than that to save this day.” The other boys’ eyes widened. It wasn’t often that Iwaizumi complained this openly about anything other than Oikawa’s annoying antics. Matsukawa gestured for Iwaizumi to continue, and he did. “I won’t force you, but I could use some help-“

“We’ll do it!” The other two said simultaneously, even rolling up the sleeves of their winter jackets (which didn’t work at all) at the same time, as if to say they were ready for business. They looked distinctly less eager when Iwaizumi actually explained to them the situation, but, amongst the three of them, they managed to transport Oikawa into Iwaizumi’s house without waking him.

“Thank you guys,” Iwaizumi said sincerely. “Couldn’t have done that without you.”

Matsukawa gave a thumbs up and Hanamaki grinned.

“Just so you know,” Iwaizumi continued, just as genuine. “You’re sworn to secrecy about this. If I find out you tell a soul - and that includes Oikawa himself - I promise you’ll regret it.”

Both boys were already nodding yes before Iwaizumi finished speaking. He grinned and walked them out of the house, glad to have such amazing friends.

Then he turned back to his best friend, who was sleeping, but still covered in his own sick. Iwaizumi shook his head, wondering how he was going to clean up such a huge mess. It was going to be a long night, that much was certain. 

He looked at the kitchen table and smiled at the two takeout bags. He doubted that Oikawa would want anything, but at least Iwaizumi would have dinner.

When he turned back to Oikawa, Iwaizumi frowned, remembering he’d forgotten to tell him something. He huffed as he searched the kitchen for some soup to prepare for whenever his friend woke up.

“I am not your mom,” he remarked to the can of soup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm sorry if you didn't, i know it isn't everyone's cup of tea.  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below if you have a bit of time to type them up!
> 
> if you like my writing, feel free to make requests on my tumblr accounts!  
> my fanfiction sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction](http://casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction.tumblr.com)  
> i also have an oc sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-ocs](http://casper-and-their-sick-ocs.tumblr.com)  
> my main is [@smolsickficwriter](http://smolsickficwriter.tumblr.com)  
> and i have a collab hq!! sickfic account [@vollyball-illnesses](http://vollyball-illnesses.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't want to read about vomit, do not read!

When his phone rang at 3 am in the morning, Iwaizumi answered out of instinct and mumbled a sleepy hello into the receiver without even opening his eyes. In fact, a part of him was still dreaming, and he thought, at first, that he was receiving a call from his dog about a business meeting.

Regardless, when he heard a strangled noise that sounded like a sob coming from the other end of the line, he snapped awake immediately. Even before anyone said a word, Iwaizumi knew it was Oikawa. A sense of deja vu washed over him as he remembered that night years ago when he’d gotten an eerily similar call and rushed to find Oikawa on the gym floor with a severely injured knee. A vice-like fear gripped him.

“What’s wrong?” There was no evidence of his worry in his tone, but neither was there any sign of his anger or uncertainty. His voice was completely monotone.

“I-Iwa-chan,” Oikawa choked out. He spoke again but it was incomprehensible.

“Where are you?” Iwaizumi’s heart was beating fast at the thought of Oikawa hurt and alone somewhere. He put on jeans and a hoody and instinctively started running towards the school.

“Th-the g-gym,” Oikawa sobbed. Iwaizumi nodded. It was as he had expected.

“Alright. Hang tight. I’m on my way.”

He ran as fast as he could, legs propelled to move even faster than normal as Iwaizumi imagined Oikawa lying on the ground with his leg bent at an awkward angle. Yet, when he actually reached the doors to the gym, he hesitated for a moment. He took a moment to attempt to brace himself for whatever he would find inside. If Oikawa hurt his knee again, his volleyball career would most likely be over. The thought made Iwaizumi’s stomach flip, and he realized that bracing himself for something like that wasn’t an option, so he flung open the doors.

“Oikawa!” Iwaizumi’s eyes immediately locked in on the sweaty, hiccuping heap slumped against the wall across the gym. He rushed over to inspect his friend for any damage but stopped abruptly halfway, taken aback by an awful smell.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa blinked at him blearily. “Why’re you - hic - here?”

“Are you injured? And what’s that smell?” The adrenaline from the phone call was still rushing through Iwaizumi’s veins, and his panic was making it hard to process everything. For example, the fact that the revolting stench was coming from the vomit that was dripping down the front of Oikawa’s uniform, was something he realized only after he’d asked the question.

“Did you throw up?”

Oikawa hiccuped again and gave Iwaizumi a look that said uh, duh, can’t you see for yourself? and all at once he understood.

“You’re sick,” Iwaizumi stated, no longer asking questions because he didn’t need to. As the adrenaline drained out of him, anger seeped in to replace it. “You called me, in hysterics, at three am, because you made yourself sick by practicing too much?”

Tears flooded Oikawa’s eyes, but noticing them on fueled Iwaizumi’s anger.

“Don’t do that!” Iwaizumi shouted. Oikawa flinched, looking perplexed.

“You can’t do that,” Iwaizumi said, voice cracking but still filled with rage. His next words rushed out of him too quickly for him to think twice about what he was saying. “You can’t just cry like it’s the end of the world when it’s not! I thought you– I thought you were hurt, I thought you fucked up your knee again, for good this time, I thought your volleyball career was over and I thought I’d find you in here completely broken-“

Throughout Iwaizumi’s rant, Oikawa had grown closer and closer to actually crying, and he gradually shrunk in on himself with every word. He looked small and pitiful and nothing like the “grand king” he was perceived by some to be. But that wasn’t what made iwaizumi stop talking. What finally brought him to a halt was not a word or even tears, but a burp. A small burp, but an alarming one nonetheless, and rightly so. Almost immediately following it, Oikawa tilted his chin in, just a tiny bit, and a gurgling stream of vomit spilled past his lips and onto his own chest.

Immediately, all of the anger that had replaced Iwaizumi’s fear was gone, and in its place, compassion.

He finally made it all the way to his friend, just in time for Oikawa to burp up a ticker stream of puke onto himself.

“Jeez, you’re too tired to even move, huh?” Iwaizumi murmured. He placed a hand on the sick boy’s back and helped him lean to the side so he wouldn’t make the mess on himself any worse. A shudder ran through Oikawa’s entire body and he made a shuddering, disgusted noise before he was heaving up more vile, partially digested food that splashed onto the gym floor. After coughing up a thin stream of bile, Oikawa started to slump forward. Iwaizumi pressed his forehead back gently to prevent him from falling into his own sick.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “You’re burning up. Fuck, Oikawa, what the hell?”

Oikawa hiccuped again and Iwaizumi flinched, but nothing came up besides air. “Are you… mad? Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi frowned as he pulled out his phone to call his mom to come with the car so they could take Oikawa home. “I wasn’t really mad,” he smoothed Oikawa’s hair back as he hurriedly tried to explain while the phone was still ringing and unanswered. “I was worried.”

He stood up when his mother answered with a sleepy hello (probably in much the same manner that Iwaizumi had greeted Oikawa earlier that night) and as he explained the situation, Oikawa latched onto his legs.

“Iwa-chan is - hic - the best!”

“Oi!” Iwaizumi started to protest, wary of the fact that this was a situation that might conclude in him needing new shoes. “Shittyka-“

He didn’t finish because there was no use. Before he’d even finished speaking Oikawa had very quickly paled and heaved a splash of thick, hot vomit onto Iwaizumi’s shoes. Oikawa took one look at Iwaizumi’s face and burst into tears again.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi knelt down beside his friend. “Don’t cry! Oikawa. These shoes are old. I needed new ones anyway. Hey, come on.”

No matter how much Iwaizumi pleaded, Oikawa was practically inconsolable now. Iwaizumi took his hoodie off, and glanced down at his own shirt with a sigh. It was just an old shirt, he reminded himself. Still, it took all of his willpower to wrap his arms around his vomit soaked friend.

It was disgusting; he would never deny that. And yet somehow, the way Oikawa stopped sobbing and stilled, and then relaxed into the hug, it wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as it should have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm sorry if you didn't, i know it isn't everyone's cup of tea.  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below if you have a bit of time to type them up!
> 
> if you like my writing, feel free to make requests on my tumblr accounts!  
> my fanfiction sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction](http://casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction.tumblr.com)  
> i also have an oc sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-ocs](http://casper-and-their-sick-ocs.tumblr.com)  
> my main is [@smolsickficwriter](http://smolsickficwriter.tumblr.com)  
> and i have a collab hq!! sickfic account [@vollyball-illnesses](http://vollyball-illnesses.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

“That’s a great idea!” Oikawa shouted. Iwaizumi stepped approached the lunch table where some of his teammates had gathered just as Oikawa flashed his signature grin at Kyoutani and Yahaba.

“What’s a great idea?” Iwaizumi scowled, knowing all too well that Oikawa didn’t always have the best judgement. Something uneasy flashed in Oikawa’s eyes, and Iwaizumi’s sense of foreboding grew.

“Ah, Iwa-chan! It’s a secret for now! I’ll tell everyone at practice tonight, don’t worry!”

Avoidance. That was a bad sign. That meant that this was one of those times when something was making Oikawa feel a lack of control, and for whatever reason, keeping it a secret from Iwaizumi for the time being made him feel less helpless. Iwaizumi’s scowl deepened, but there was nothing he could say or do to get Oikawa to change his mind at this point. He just hoped it was something minor and allowed Oikawa to change the subject of conversation without complaint.

\---

As soon as he saw the guilty look on Oikawa’s face as he gathered the team together Iwaizumi knew that this was a really bad idea. However, he also knew that it was past the point of no return, at least from Oikawa’s perspective, seeing as he’d told the entire team about this mysterious “great idea.”

“Well?” Iwaizumi said brusquely. “We’re all here. What’s up?”

Oikawa grinned and pulled a snarling Kyoutani into a one-armed side-hug. “So, it turns out, Mad Dog’s family owns a cabin in the middle of the woods, and he’s offered to have the team over this weekend!”

The rest of the team started chattering excitedly. Iwaizumi was still suspicious.

“Okay, how far away is it?”

There was a sudden and momentary halt in the easy flow of Oikawa’s movements, and Iwaizumi knew he’d hit a nerve as Oikawa bit his lip with a sheepish smile.

“Well, here’s the thing, Iwa-chan,” he started. “It’s a 14 hour drive, but-“

“14 hours?!? Do you have any idea how we’re all going to get there? And 14 hours– that’s a really long drive, do you think you’ll be okay-“

“What are you talking about, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa cut him off. “Of course I have it all figured out! We’ll just make it into a road trip. Yahaba has a huge car that he says we can use, and Mad Dog’s older brother can drive that, and you have a car, plus you can drive-“

“Oi, don’t just volunteer people for things they don’t know about, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, hitting Oikawa over the head and ignoring his friend’s complaint about the violence. Looking around, it was clear that everyone was so excited about the trip, and Iwaizumi understood why Oikawa didn’t want to ruin that, but still…

“Hey, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said loudly, making sure the rest of the team could hear over their chattering. “Don’t you get car sick pretty bad on long drives?”

The team fell silent, and a few expressions passed over Oikawa’s face in quick succession. First it was surprise, like he’d thought Iwaizumi wouldn’t say anything. Next was a flushed embarrassment, and then a flicker of betrayal that cut Iwaizumi to the core. And finally, anger, which was quickly hidden under a mask of annoyance as the third years exchanged looks and the second and first years started asking concerned questions. Oikawa quieted them with a wave of his hand.

“Iwa-chan, honestly! How embarrassing! When was the last time you went on a long drive with me?”

Iwaizumi frowned, but answered honestly. “Oh, I don’t know, middle school? Not too-“

“That was a loooong time ago, Iwa-chan, jeez. All kids get carsick. I’ve grow up and out of it now,” Oikawa stated, placing his hands on his hips, looking around at the rest of the team. Iwaizumi followed his gaze, and watched relief fall on his underclassmen’s faces. Even his fellow third years seemed to accept the news gladly. He dismissed the team and pulled Oikawa to the side as the rest of their teammates left.

“Have you even been on a long drive since middle school?”

Oikawa’s smile faltered, but returned with a determined gleam. “Sure, longish ones. I didn’t feel a thing,” he stated smugly, crossing his arms and turning to leave.

“Oi, listen to me!” Iwaizumi spoke more harshly than he had intended as he grabbed Oikawa’s shoulder and turned him around. He takes a deep, calming breath and makes sure Oikawa is paying attention before continuing. “I’m just saying that there’s a difference between a “longish” drive and a 14 hour one. And if there are any issues, it’s going to end up being 14 hours of hell.”

There was a pause, and Iwaizumi searched Oikawa’s eyes, hoping to see a sign that he’d listened. There was none. Oikawa’s eyes closed off completely, expression darkening, and shoved Iwaizumi away from him.

“Get off of me, Iwa-chan, and leave me alone. I know you like to pretend otherwise, but you’re not my mom,” he sneered venomously, spinning on his heel and walking away.

“Oi, Shittykawa, come on! I just don’t want to see you get sick.”

“If you don’t want to come, Iwaizumi, then don’t,” Oikawa threw over his shoulder, then turned back only to grumble loudly under his breath as he left the gym. “It’s not like I care. And if you want me to listen to you, don’t call me shit.”

“Fine!” Iwaizumi shouted. “It’s not my problem if you end up sick, though.”

Iwaizumi took a deep breath, then let it out in a shuddering sigh. He walked home slowly so as to avoid accidentally catching up to Oikawa, and spent the whole time wondering just how badly their friendship was broken.

\---

The week passed slowly.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa didn’t speak to each other, and both got progressively more irritable (but no less stubborn) as the week wore on.

Hanamaki asked Iwaizumi if Oikawa really did get carsick. Iwaizumi said yes, with a scowl. Then he added, “at least, he used to.”

Matsukawa asked Oikawa if he really did get carsick. Oikawa said no, with a pout. Then he added, “probably.”

After hearing both sides of the story, Matsukawa and Hanamaki more or less kept their distance from both of the older boys.

Iwaizumi spent the week alternately pretending to enjoy his alone time and staring off into space listlessly.

Oikawa spent the week practicing volleyball until his knee ached, and then continued to practice.

Matsukawa waved his hand in front of Iwaizumi’s face when he spaced out and didn’t move when the bell rang at the end of class.

Hanamaki gave Oikawa some videos he found of their next opponents playing and advised him to take a day off from practicing to watch them.

Iwaizumi pretended not to worry about how much weight his team’s captain had lost, and pretended that he didn’t feel sick when he spotted Oikawa limping slightly.

Oikawa pretended not to worry that he might end up being carsick without Iwaizumi if his team’s vice captain decided to take his advice.

Hanamaki asked Iwaizumi if he was going on the trip. Iwaizumi shrugged.

Matsukawa asked Oikawa if Iwaizumi was going on the trip. Oikawa shrugged.

When Matsukawa asked Iwaizumi how to get Oikawa to stop overworking himself, Iwaizumi told him not to worry about it because “Oikawa is a grown man, apparently.” Matsukawa left it out that out of fear of getting hit.

When Hanamaki asked Oikawa if he had a car and a driver’s license in case Iwaizumi couldn’t come, Oikawa told him not to worry about it because “I’ll figure something out!” Hanamaki resisted the urge to ask Oikawa if he was going to cry.

Iwaizumi lost in an arm wrestling contest against Hanamaki.

Matsukawa spotted Oikawa watching, and then followed him with his eyes as the captain walked away without a word, but looking like he’d been punched in the gut.

Then, all too soon, the week was over, and it was time for the trip.

\---

Iwaizumi didn’t say a word when he saw Oikawa at the school on Friday evening. Oikawa saw him pull his car up to a close parking spot in the school lot, and immediately looked away, gesturing at the second years to go with the vice captain. He saw Hanamaki raise his hand and say something, at which point Oikawa nodded, reluctantly. He watched as Kyotani, who was on his way towards Iwaizumi, scowl and turn around, and Hanamaki took his place, sliding in the passenger seat.

“Did you tell him to send you with me?” Iwaizumi asked bluntly.

“Yeah,” Hanamaki said, peeling back the wrapper to a granola bar. “Told him that Kyotani should go with his brother, but Mattsun and I just wanted to make sure that if, by chance, anything happens, we’ll all be in communication.”

Iwaizumi swallowed thickly. “I told him it’s not my problem if he gets sick.”

Hanamaki gave him a bland look. “Iwaizumi. Listen. Oikawa is always your problem.”

Yahaba and Watari got into the back seats of the car, and Iwaizumi put his head in his hands. “Not if he doesn’t want to be,” he whispered, so only Hanamaki could hear. The other 3rd year sighed, but let the matter drop.

“Is everything okay?” Watari asked.

“Sure, it is,” Hanamaki assured him. Watari didn’t seem to believe him (Iwaizumi didn’t blame him).

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi confirmed, looking in the rearview. “Everything’s fine. This was a great idea that you and Kyoutani had, Yahaba. You guys ready to go?”

Both second years grinned and nodded. As soon as the Kyoutani’s brother’s car pulled out, Iwaizumi followed suit.

It was a nice drive, pretty scenic, without much traffic, and the roads were, for the most part, straight without too many turns. They grabbed a quick dinner after about three hours, and Oikawa seemed fine. When the first half of the drive passed without incident, Iwaizumi started to breathe easier, hoping that maybe he’d been wrong to worry. Of course, no sooner had he thought it than the car in front of him swerved widely before pulling over very suddenly.

Iwaizumi cursed. They were going too fast for him to pull over behind the other car, and there was no space in front of them for Iwaizumi’s car, so he drove a little ways before doubling back and making circle. In the mean time, Hanamaki’s phone rang. He answered without even looking at the caller, Iwaizumi listened to his end of the conversation.

“Matsukawa, is everything o- oh, Kunimi?” There was a drawn out silence and Hanamaki paled as he listened. Eventually Iwaizumi got to anxious to remain quiet, and he nudged Hanamaki.

“Oi,” he whispered, “what’s happening? Why’d Kunimi call?”

“Ah, hang on, Kunimi, let me tell Iwaizumi what’s going on.” Hanamaki took a shaky breath, keeping the phone close to his ear, and turned to Iwaizumi. “Apparently Oikawa’s having a rough time, and Mattsun is busy trying to help him, and everyone else is pretty freaked out so Kunimi-“ Hanamaki’s eyes widened as he listened to the sounds coming from the other end of the line and he gestured for Iwaizumi to wait a minute while he turned back to speak into the phone.

“Hey, Kunimi, you okay?” Hanamaki cursed under his breath as he listened, and Iwaizumi finally pulled onto the side of the road behind the other car, jumping out immediately. Hanamaki got out with him, still on the phone. “Hey, calm down, alright? We’ll be over there in a minute, I promise- no, really, you’re doing great, just stay calm and wait. Iwaizumi and I-”

Hanamaki looked around only to find Iwaizumi running ahead of him. He shook his head, and started sprinting. “We’ll be there soon,” he repeated, hanging up.

“Oi, Iwaizumi, wait up!”

But Iwaizumi didn’t wait. He’d heard Oikawa’s voice and it was strained and whiny and tearful and he didn’t feel much like waiting to see his best friend any longer. He ran as fast as he could until he found Oikawa, on his hands and knees, with Matsukawa, just outside of the car. Matsukawa was squatting down and rubbing Oikawa’s back with an intensely concerned look on his face. The younger boy looked up and greeted Iwaizumi with a relieved smile. He readily backed away so Iwaizumi could take his place.

“Hey, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said softly, squatting down. Oikawa looked at him gratefully, half-unbelieving, vomit still on his mouth.

“I-Iwa-cha- ulp,” Oikawa turned back towards the ground as his body jerked and he threw up. Iwaizumi sighed sadly, observing the already sizable puddle of sick on the ground, and massaged the sick boy’s back as another heave wracked him. He heard Matsukawa and Hanamaki talking behind him.

“What happened?” Hanamaki asked. “Kunimi sounded pretty shaken up on the phone…”

Matsukawa huffed a laugh. “I’m sure he did. He was. Shaken up, I mean. Oikawa has been… a handful, to say the least. Started picking on Kyoutani, I think because he was feeling so bad and wanted to distract himself or something, and then Kyoutani’s brother got pissed. Somehow Kyoutani and his brother started arguing with each other, and Oikawa went really quiet, then threw up on himself. The car swerved into the other lane, which was terrifying by the way, and Kindaichi started gagging from the smell. It was all a huge mess.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whined when he had a chance to. “I’m sorry. You were right. I- hic!” Oikawa doubled over again as the hiccup turned into a teary heave.

“You’re fine, Oikawa, just breathe.”

“-called you because Oikawa freaked out, so I tried to calm him down. Pretty sure he was having a full blown panic attack. Thank goodness Kunimi’s so level headed, though.”

Iwaizumi squeezed Oikawa’s shoulder, knowing how hard this must have been for him. Oikawa hated making messes, and this one was all over him.

“-unimi okay, though?” Hanamaki was asking. “I’ve never heard him that panicked before.” Iwaizumi brushed his hands through Oikawa’s hair in a soothing gesture as the sick boy suffered a gurgling heave.

“Ah, yeah,” Matsukawa replied. “That’s the other thing. He- I think at first he was so wrapped up in helping all of us, but later I guess the scary swerve got to him? I don’t know exactly, but Kindaichi said something about a car crash Kunimi had been in when he was younger. Whatever it was, he started having a panic attack, but only we’d pulled over, so Kindaichi took him on a walk.” Matsukawa sighed, and dropped his head onto Hanamaki’s shoulder. “It’s been a long day.”

“I know,” Hanamaki said, brushing a hand through the taller boy’s hair. He called out to Iwaizumi. “How’s Oikawa doing?”

Iwaizumi watched his best friend belch up another mouthful of thick puke.

“Not great,” he replied honestly. “Oikawa, come on, stop crying. You have to breathe or you’ll only feel worse.”

Oikawa nodded, sucking up the urge to cry. His stomach flipped and the repulsive acidic taste of more partially digested food as it left his body almost made him lose it again. Then Iwaizumi drew a heart on his back, and he resisted.

When they were younger, it had been their secret way of telling one another to believe in the strength of their hearts. Now, it had a double meaning which made it all the more powerful.

Oikawa breathed slowly, struggled through another round of vomiting, and three painful dry heaves, and then it was done. It was done, except he was a mess. As he took in his puke-sodden clothes, he started to shake violently.

“Iwa-chan. Iwa-chan, look, look what I did, I can’t- I don’t like this and I don’t feel good and-“

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said gently, wiping off Oikawa’s face with the kleenex Matsukawa offered him if only to shut him up. “You’re fine. You know what? I may have put some old clothes in the trunk of my car for you-“ Oikawa’s eyes lit up. “-but we have to walk back over there to get them because I didn’t have time to grab them when I came over here. Can you do that?”

Oikawa nodded eagerly and stood up, only to sway unsteadily when he did. Iwaizumi wrapped an arm around him and was grateful when Hanamaki flashing him a smile, took Oikawa’s other side. Matsukawa grabbed a water from the cooler in the SUV and followed.

When they got back to Iwaizumi’s car, the second years were outside of it, talking to Kunimi and Kindaichi. Kunimi seemed drained and a bit shaky, but he was laughing and his voice was back to it’s normal steady tone so it seemed like he was alright.

“You all go back to the SUV,” Iwaizumi instructed, glaring at them when their eyes widened at the sight of their captain. “We’re gonna have all of the third years in my car for the rest of the time.”

The second and first years nodded and hurried off. Iwaizumi helped Oikawa change and then put him in the passenger seat with a plastic grocery bag and the water bottle. “Drink this,” he instructed.

“But I don’t-“

“We still have five and a half hours left. You can get sick in my car, but I will not have anyone passing out on me.” As Matsukawa and Hanamaki got in the back seats, Oikawa took a fearful sip. Iwaizumi sighed. “That’s good, Oikawa. Just drink it slowly and you’ll be fine.”

Oikawa groaned. “Ohhhhh, I feel terrible.”

“Please don’t get sick,” Hanamaki pleaded as Iwaizumi started driving.

“Yeah, I like the fact that this car doesn’t smell like vomit yet,” Matsukawa added. Iwaizumi laughed a bit at their antics but Oikawa looked petrified.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said. “They’re just joking.”

“They’re right.”

“They’re kidding. Oikawa, they have farting contests. They can’t complain about smell.”

Oikawa nodded with a small smile, looking pale.

“Hey, we’ve got a ways to go- think you could take a nap?”

“Ugh, I don’t know. I can try, but I still feel really sick.”

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa’s hand a squeeze. “Alright.”

Oikawa leaned back and closed his eyes. About ten minutes later they flew open and he lurched forward, heaving into the grocery bag. A thin stream of vomit splashed into it as Iwaizumi cursed and the boys in the back made a racket.

“Damnit, Oikawa!” Hanamaki shouted. Oikawa just burped and coughed up more sick.

“Makki, come on, he can’t help it!”

“I know! It’s just nasty!” Hanamaki complained, but reached around Oikawa’s seat to rub his back in Iwaizumi’s place.

“Oi, do you want me to pull over?” Iwaizumi asked, not unkindly.

Oikawa shook his head and made a negatory sound. He gagged twice, then shuddered as he was wracked by a huge heave, and more than he’d realized was left in him came pouring out of his mouth. He coughed, spitting out a small amount of bile, and shuddered again at the awful taste, before leaning back in his seat, sensing that his stomach was empty.

Matsukawa reached up to take the bag of puke from him to tie it off, and Hanamaki handed up a new grocery bag just in case. Iwaizumi handed Oikawa the water bottle.

“Look,” he said as Oikawa begrudgingly took a few sips from the bottle, “I’m not trying to be your mom. I just worry-“

“I know, Iwa-chan. You’re not my mom,” Oikawa yawned and shut his eyes. “You’re my Iwa-chan, and that’s much better.”

Iwaizumi flushed red when the other third years made kissing noises from the back seat, then spared a quick glance at Oikawa. He smiled when he saw that he was asleep. He deserved it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! and i'm sorry if you didn't, i know it isn't everyone's cup of tea.  
> i'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below if you have a bit of time to type them up!
> 
> if you like my writing, feel free to make requests on my tumblr accounts!  
> my fanfiction sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction](http://casper-and-their-sick-fanfiction.tumblr.com)  
> i also have an oc sickfic tumblr account [@casper-and-their-sick-ocs](http://casper-and-their-sick-ocs.tumblr.com)  
> my main is [@smolsickficwriter](http://smolsickficwriter.tumblr.com)  
> and i have a collab hq!! sickfic account [@vollyball-illnesses](http://vollyball-illnesses.tumblr.com)


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